In George’s work outside the courtroom, he showed up as a science advisor on the board of the Household Products Safety Advisory Board, an organization that appeared to get its funding from companies that manufactured cleaning supplies. He made regular appearances in Congress, testifying on the dangers of overzealous regulation. He was senior research fellow at the Center for Study of Indoor Air Quality.
The chief science liaison at Banks Strategy Partners was everywhere. Nice, Santa-like Uncle George seemed to pop up whenever a new chemical or substance needed defending. As Alix watched him work the crowd, she wondered if he could really be as amoral as the circumstantial evidence indicated. He seemed way too nice to actually be that awful.
She remembered how badly Moses and his crew wanted to see what files Banks Strategy Partners held.
Alix remembered the USB stick that Kook had given her with the virus.
“Stuxnet, baby. DoD-certified badass wormtastic. You just plug it in, and I’ll do the rest.”
Alix suddenly wished she had it now.
Is that really what I’m thinking about doing? Hacking my own dad’s company?
But it was a fantasy. She didn’t have the virus. Williams & Crowe had taken the thing away and she’d never seen it again.
She did have one thing, though, and it made Alix feel traitorous to realize that she might take advantage of it.
She had her father’s complete trust.
You’re the good girl. The responsible girl. The levelheaded girl.
The levelheaded girl knocked back her champagne glass and headed down to the lower deck. She wove through the press of cocktail dresses and suits, zeroing in on George Saamsi, snagging another champagne on the way.
“George!”
BSP’s chief science liaison turned at her call, looking surprised, but when he saw it was Alix, he smiled warmly. “Alix! I wasn’t sure you’d come.” He looked around. “Where are your friends?”
“Oh, they’re around.”
How to change the topic?
Alix tried to look troubled and let her smile slip a little. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “It’s not…” She shrugged. “It’s not the same hanging out with them… since…” She shrugged again, helpless. “You know. Since the 2.0 thing.”
George’s expression immediately became concerned and sympathetic. “I’m so sorry to hear that. It must have been horrible.”
Alix tried to look like someone who was bravely hiding her pain. “The doctor says I’ll get over it, eventually. It’s like PTSD, I guess. Iraq and Afghanistan soldiers mostly get over it, too. And they had it so much worse than I did. 2.0 didn’t do anything to me…” She shook her head. “But still, it bothers me. I know it’s a small thing, but I hate it. That cage—” She broke off.
“Don’t minimize it, Alix. You went through something terrible. They took away your freedom. They made you feel powerless. That’s not easy for anyone to take. Just because you weren’t physically hurt doesn’t mean there wasn’t trauma.”
Alix took a long hard swig from her champagne and peered at George from over the rim of the glass, making sure he saw her doing it.
He bit, just like she knew he would. Good old Uncle George, keeping an eye out for his best friend’s child.
“That’s…” He paused. “That’s a lot of alcohol, Alix.”
Alix drained the glass and handed the empty off to a waiter. “What? This?” She snagged another fresh glass before the waiter could escape. “Chill, Uncle George. It’s just to relax.” It was some kind of sparkling rosé that looked gross and tasted worse when she lifted it to her lips.
George gripped her arm, stopping her from taking another drink. “Alix. Seriously. I think you’ve had enough.”
Alix yanked her arm away and raised her voice. “Why? Because I’m such a good girl?” A couple of people glanced over at them now. Perfect. A scene. Except she really was getting drunk.
George held up his hands, soothing. “What’s going on, Alix? What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing,” Alix snapped. “I don’t want you to say anything. Some kind of crazy terrorists put me in a cage because of your business, and you and Dad don’t have anything to say.”
“We didn’t do that to you, Alix.”
“You know I hurt him?” Alix said sharply.
“Your father?”
“No. The jackass who grabbed me.” Moses. “He stuck his hand into my cage, and I grabbed him. I almost broke his arm.”
“That was incredibly brave.”
“No. I was pissed. He was saying all kinds of things about you and Dad.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah.” She took another swig of champagne. “You wouldn’t believe all the things he was saying. All about you and Dad killing families and fooling people into taking drugs and s-selling lies.” Her words were slurring now, but she kept her eyes on George’s expression. “He wanted me to write things. To say you were doing those things. He wanted me to write down everything that they were saying and put my name on it.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that. The Chinese in Korea did something similar with American GIs. It’s a form of brainwashing—”
Brainwashing? Alix felt sick with the new thought, and she didn’t think it was the liquor. Am I brainwashed? Is that why I’m taking all this so seriously now? Because 2.0 got inside my head and brainwashed me?
George was still talking. “—You should talk to your therapist about it. Anything that you felt or did while they had you locked up.” He gripped her shoulder, hard, looking her in the eye. “It wasn’t your fault, Alix. Remember that.”
Alix struggled to get back into her role. “It—it was all insane. They were saying they were going to do something to expose Dad.”
“Their stunt with the warehouse,” George nodded knowingly.
“Nooo…” Alix didn’t even have to pretend to be drunk anymore. She was flying. The champagne had made it through her blood and straight into her head. “It was something else. It sounded big. About asthma medicine or something. Some drug killing kids or something.” She tossed back the rest of the rosé and stared around drunkenly. “I’ve got to tell Dad. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. It was when 2.0 had me in the cage. 2.0 said he was going to make some company pay.” She scanned the crowds again. “I can’t believe I forgot. Dad needs to know they’re still planning something!”
She lurched off, pretending to seek her father. George caught her before she toppled off her Jimmy Choos. “It’s all right, Alix. I’ll speak with him,” he said soothingly. “I’ll let him know. Now probably isn’t the time.”
“Do you think it’s true?” she asked, making her eyes go wide and drunk and Bambi innocent. “About the asthma drug? Do you think it could be killing people?”
George laughed and shook his head kindly. “No, Alix. It couldn’t. People will say almost anything if it will win them a lawsuit. They’ll try to spread a lie that a certain medicine kills just to make a buck off the jury award. It doesn’t matter how many studies show something is safe, because if you can force a jury into a hysterical conclusion, instead taking a measured approach and letting sound science dictate what’s true, a trial lawyer can get a huge payday from a class action lawsuit.” He snorted. “People will say or do all kinds of horrible things for money, unfortunately.”
Alix forced herself to smile. “That’s what I told them.”
As quickly as she could, she separated from him and went to the rail. The feeling of being surrounded by unclean things was almost overwhelming. Talking to George, she felt as if he was using a part of the Doubt Factory playbook on her. Around the time he’d said “sound science” she’d started suspecting that he knew exactly what he was doing.